


The Bloodied and the Blue Hunter

by RavenDarkwood



Series: The Witches of Black Woods [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A cat gets left outside in the rain for a bit that literally it, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, At least four cats, Both of those tags apply to the same character, Canonical Character Death, Cat, Familiars, Gender Non-Conforming Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Magic, Minor Character Death, Multi, No harm to cats, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenDarkwood/pseuds/RavenDarkwood
Summary: After one of their allies was trapped in Faerie the Archivist Coven sought out the witch of Black Woods, who is known to have both a collection of magical artifacts, and a spellcrafter.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Series: The Witches of Black Woods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990126
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25
Collections: TMA Spooky Gift Exchange





	The Bloodied and the Blue Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AJfanfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJfanfic/gifts).



The early autumn air is warm enough that the rain is a pleasant cool contrast. Or, at least it is to anyone that doesn’t have glasses.

The dark grey clouds cover the sky as they exit the train, and though they feel the full moon behind those clouds and the power that it brings them there’s little they can do about the weather other than to hide under Tim’s trench coat and wait for it to be over.

Or at least that’s what Sasha and Jon have to do to spare their ability to see. Tim’s free to galavant through the rain with Korey on his heel. He’s still able to see, though as much as he makes fun most of his time is spent searching the map of Blackwood Village that a local had drawn for them.

“Alright, so… Yeah, looks like we’re on the right path. Blackwood Cottage should just be down this road.” Tim gestures down the empty cobblestone street in front of them. They were already a good way outside of the village, and it was surprising that they weren’t into dirt roads.

“I don’t like this.” This isn’t the first time Jon’s said this about the trip. It’s not even the first time in this hour. Their mood was soured by both the weather splotching up their glasses and having to watch the ground, lest they accidently put their cane in some place not quite flat and end up stumbling.

Sasha snorts, and holds Tim’s coat a bit higher over them. “You’ve said.”

“And you’ve been saying. What was it last time?” Tim pauses to think, and when he starts back up he’s mimicking Jon’s accent. “‘That M. K. Blackwood, releasing theoretical spells to the public, not even bothering to test them himself, never mind that they all seem to work fairly well’. Or was it; ‘that M. K. Blackwood, bane of my existence even though we’ve never met, designing potions like “ _ the feeling of a parent’s pride _ ” or “ _ the feeling of believing your unrequited love is actually requited but it actually isn’t _ ”, or even “ _ the increasing desire of taking everything you love and need and burning the rest of your life to the ground and then the suppression of that” _ -’”

“There’s no reason for those potions to exist!” Jon interrupts, huddling closer to Sasha. The temperature was starting to drop, and they can’t waste magic on making themself warmer. “I don’t understand the point of making such useless things.”

“I dunno, sometimes I like taking potions like that. You know, have myself a good cry while watching a sad movie. It’s fun. Watch yourself, puddle,” Sasha points out, and both she and Jon pick up their skirts as they step over it.

“But he doesn’t actually make them. He just… scribbles down some things on paper and sends them out for other people to make. It’s astounding that no one’s been hurt by just… following the word of someone who hasn’t actually cast the spell or made the potion. That, along with his hoarding magical artifacts and grimoires, makes him no better than Leitner in my opinion.”

Tim playfully winces. “Owch, harsh. Bad as Leitner, eh?”

“Well,” Jon huffs out. “Maybe not as bad as Leitner. But that’s only because Leitner is his own unique case of horrible.”

Sasha snorts as she glances down at Jon. “One of these days I’m going to figure out why you hate Leitner so much.”

“No you won't,” Jon promises. “Not unless it’s somehow relevant in a life or death scenario. And even then I will hesitate before telling you.”

“Wow, I  _ really _ want to know now.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Just how far are we from it.”

“Not far at all. Look.” Tim points down the road to a two story cottage just in time for Korey to dart around Tim’s feet and take off towards the cottage. “Oh wow, someone’s excited. You two up for running?”

“Tim I’m in heels-” Sasha starts with a shake of her head.

“Fuck off Tim,” Jon hissed in pain. Their cane had accidentally slipped a bit into a crevice between two stones and thrown them off balance, though the pain was more from The Dame sinking her claws into their shoulder so she wouldn’t slip off of them. 

“You alright there Jon?” Tim asks, reaching out a hand to help Jon straighten up.

“Oh, a cat.” Sasha points with one of her fingers, as her hands are still busy holding up Tim’s jacket.

“Cat?” Jon parrots instead of answering Tim, and starts looking around him to try and see said cat.

“Yeah, in front of the cottage. Korey and Valfreyja are with it.”

Tim shakes his head as he turns to look where Sasha’s pointing. “Blackwood’s familiar, do you think?”

Jon shakes their head, and gestures up towards the sky. “Who would leave their familiar outside in this weather?” They reach up with one hand to run their fingers through The Dame’s short black fur.

“I dunno, Korey and Valley seem-”

“Tim, how many times have I told you not to call her Valley? I swear I’m going to hex you next time you do it.” Sasha lets go of one edge of the coat so as to point at Tim while she threatens him, leaving that edge of the coat to flop down on top of Jon’s head.

Tim laughs easily, and edges away from her. “You’re the one who decided to name your familiar Valfreyja.”

Jon huffs, and uses their free hand to push the coat off of their head. “Is this really the- oof!” The Dame decides that this moment is perfectly good for climbing off of Jon’s shoulders, and uses their right one like a springboard to join her coven littermates.

It’s only as they get closer that they see the other cat in all it’s detail. Their three familiars sit in front of the other cat, a large calico with light blue eyes, and the four of them seem to be having their own little coven meeting of their own.

Korey, Tim’s tuxedo cat, sits on the left, and every few moments her attention is caught by something else, such as a leaf falling beside her head. She jumps on it, and returns to the kitty coven meeting just as quickly.

Valfreyja, Sasha’s black and grey tabby, sits in the center, and every few seconds she leans close to the other cat to sniff at them, only stopping when the other cat leans away.

The Dame, Jon’s slinky little black cat, sits on the right, and she just watches the other two and their interactions with the other cat.

The other cat, they see as they get closer, seems to be sitting in their meeting, but is still sitting a ways off, and not letting any of them get closer to her. She’s also fairly wet from the weather.

The sight of the wet cat causes Jon to grit his teeth. “I take it back. Blackwood is worse than Leitner.”

“I mean, that might not be their familiar?” Tim suggests, but even he doesn’t sound too convinced of that.

“Come on you two, let’s just get all of us inside.” Sasha steps around the cats and delivers three sharp knocks to the front door.

There’s a sound that comes from inside, like something being knocked over, and then there is stillness.

“Well, that sounds promising,” Jon comments dryly. The Dame takes that moment to jump up onto their shoulders, and lays across them.

The door opens not a second later, and standing in the doorway is a very large, rather round man. He ducks down to see them, and they see a rather boyish, round face with a rather amazing amount of freckles and shoulder length frizzy ginger curls. He studies them through his round glasses. “Oh, hello. I’m Martin Blackwood. I’m guessing…” He pauses to look beyond them, towards the night sky and the full moon. “Artifact, right? Nice night for it, blood moon and all.”

“Good guess,” Jon comments dryly as they cross their arms over their chest.

Martin shrugs at them. “This sort of thing isn’t, you know, uncommon. Witches coming to me to use artifacts on the full moon and all.” He pauses, and studies them for a moment. The wet calico takes that moment to dart inside, and Martin’s attention is quickly diverted. “Pumpkin! Oh sorry, please come in, just give me a second. Pumpkin you’re not supposed to be inside,” Martin calls out as he quickly follows the cat.

Jon hisses, and raises their hand-

Tim catches Jon’s wrist, gives them a pointed look, and follows Martin in. “Pumpkin, huh? That’s a fun name for your familiar.”

Sasha clears her throat as she closes the door behind them. When Tim and Jon look back at her she nods towards a corner of the room. There’s a tall grandfather clock, but it’s stopped. Not far away from that is a mirror covered in a black bedsheet.

“Oh no, Pumpkin’s not my familiar. I’m not a witch.” Martin comes back into the living room catless, and with a polite smile on his lips. Sasha attempts to exchange a confused look with Jon, but they’re still looking at Martin coldly. “She’s just a stray that I named and fed, and Mum never really let me bring her in…” Martin’s gaze drifts off towards the covered mirror. “Though I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore. And it is raining pretty hard out…”

“Yes, it is,” Jon says, and is promptly elbowed by Tim.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Tim says gently.

“Oh it’s been… oh, half a year I think? I just haven’t…” He shrugs a bit helplessly. “Anyways, you’re not here to listen to me prattle on about my life. My library’s this way,” he says as he points off to his right, their left, towards a hall. “Follow me.”

They don’t even get a few feet into the hall before Jon speaks up again. “Unable to catch the cat?”

“Oh, no, Pumpkin doesn’t really like people touching her.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Jon comments, and ignores the way that Tim sighs.

“Not even you?” Sasha asks.

“Well, no. Though,” Martin adds after a moment. “I’ve only ever seen her interact with Mum and me so I don’t know if she’s letting anyone else pet her. She’s pretty tame though, from what I’ve seen, so she also could just be a house cat that wandered off, maybe?”

“It’s kind of weird that she would come to your house when it rains then, if she belongs to someone else,” Sasha points out.

Martin sighs through his nose, and shrugs. “That is a good point, but I have been feeding her…”

“Well, it’s not like it’s going to hurt anything keeping her inside tonight night,” Tim points out.

“I wasn’t going to throw her out in this weather, I wouldn’t do that to her,” Martin protests.

Jon snorts. “You already have. She was probably waiting at your door for a while.”

“I didn’t know!” Martin spins around to face off against Jon, who crosses their arms as they glare up at Martin. “It wasn’t like she was… I dunno, making any noise- No,” Martin cuts himself off. He looks over the three of them, and gestures to the door that he stopped in front of. “What artifact did you all need?”

“The Seeing Eye,” Tim hurries to say, and steps between Jon and Martin.

Martin tilts his head, considering. “Alright, but I’m not letting you check it out. You’ll just have to use it inside of the study.”

“Perfect,” Tim says as he glares at Jon. Jon in turn shurts their mouth, and falls back to beside Sasha. “Really, it’s more than we could ask for,” Tim continues, still eyeing Jon.

Martin scoffs quietly and rolls his eyes, knowing that there’s no danger of any of the coven picking up on that, as the three of them are very wrapped up in each other.

His mother’s study is a mess. He should have cleaned it before, but it’s...difficult. She left these things in these ways for a reason, and he can’t stand to mess with that system.

The study itself isn’t very large, and it’s stacks and stacks and rows and rows of books, with artifacts here and there with no real precautions against the various things that they can do. He always hates coming into this room, as he had no real protection against… well, any of this. But he goes anyway. He can’t really use any of these things, and there was no real problem with letting a few here and there use what they find.

The coven follows him in, and Marin is painfully aware of them looking around, in what he’s sure is judgement. He steadies a stack of books that was teetering just a bit too far, but doesn’t put them away. If his mom, the one who actually knew about these things, wanted them here then here is where they’ll stay.

Even with the mess it’s not hard at all for Martin to find the Seeing Eye. He knows where everything is in this room, from so many years of his mother sending him in here to collect things.

The Seeing Eye looks very ordinary, just a small, black hag stone with things that could be scratches around the hole if you don’t look closely enough. He plucks it off of the shelf and hands it over to…

He never asked any of their names.

Martin’s eyes go wide as he considers the coven in front of him, the charismatic handsome one is talking with the small pissy one, the small pissy one is trying to look like they’re focused on one of the bookshelves while the handsome one chews them out, and the tall (though not nearly as tall as him) cleaver one is running her hands along some of the spines of the grimoires, actually focusing on the spellbooks.

Right. Well, it was too late to ask their names now. Martin would just have too… figure it out. Yes, this wouldn’t be a problem or awkward whatsoever. And the covens rarely stay for long periods of time, so he was fine!

“I have the Seeing Eye,” he announces to the room, and six pairs of eyes turn to him.

“That’s the Seeing Eye?” The small pissy one eyes the Seeing Eye with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure? That looks like a normal hag stone.”

Martin bristles. “Yes, I’m  _ sure _ -”

The small one shrugs with the shoulder that their familiar isn’t mostly draped across. “I simply wanted to make sure. You are claiming you aren’t a witch, after all, so how would you know?”

“Holy shit Jon, would you  _ please _ give it a rest,” the handsome one says as he rounds on them.

Jon. Well, that was at least one of their names.

“Plus, there’s one really easy way to find out,” the tall one says as she crosses the room. She takes the Seeing Eye from him, looks through it, and gasps a little. “Alright, we’re good.”

“We’re good?” Jon asks as they turn away from the handsome one, who also turns around, argument seemingly forgotten.

“Oh yeah, this isn’t a normal hag stone.” She lets her arm fall away from her eye, and she starts towards the center of the room, where there’s a small clearing away from the mess. “Let’s do this. Before the moon sets, please.” The black and grey tabby joins her in the small clearing, and sits by her side.

There isn’t any hesitation from the other two as they join her in the center. The handsome one’s tuxedo cat sits down in a loaf next to him, and Jon’s familiar continues to lay across their shoulders, her bright green eyes watching the room around them.

Martin edges away from the coven, until he finds a clear seat against one of the walls. He sits down, only to startle as he notices Pumpkin sitting not too far away from him. Not close enough to touch, but certainly sitting closer than she usually does.

“I am sorry, I didn’t know you were outside,” he whispers to her.

Pumpkin pays him no mind, and her eyes are focused on the coven.

Martin sighs a bit, and follows her gaze. They had put the Seeing Eye in between all of them, and had started holding hands.

“Ready?” Jon asks the two of them.

“Ready,” they answer back. Martin watches as they all close their eyes. In the center of their circle the Seeing Eye starts to glow along the runes carved into it. It lifts up onto one of its edges and starts to spin.

It’s over not long after it starts, and the handsome one immediately pushes himself to his feet. “Holy shit,” he breathes out, and starts looking around himself and stretches out his arms. “Holy, shit, I hated that.”

Martin frowns, and looks down at the Seeing Eye. “Are you all okay? People who use the Seeing Eye don’t usually have this sort of reaction…”

The tall one shakes her head as she stands. “It’s where we were looking. A…” She looks over at Jon, and shrugs a bit.

Jon stands, brushing off their skirt. “A friend-”

“A friend?” The handsome one interrupts.

“Tim, please. A business partner of ours-” Jon tries to start again.

“Business partner?” The tall one scoffs with a small laugh.

“Sasha!” Jon snaps, and they sigh again. “Fine. Someone who worked with us at one point was placed into the Faerie Pit as a punishment after she murdered a fae. That fae’s partner told us, and invited us to come get her. We wanted to check to make sure the fae was telling the truth. We saw… what was happening. It was very… claustrophobic.”

Tim sighs a bit as he wraps his arms around himself. “Yeah, that’s… certainly one way to describe it.”

Jon nods again. “Yes well, now that we know where she is we can go get her.”

Tim’s eyes snap over to Jon. “I’m sorry, what? Go and get her?  _ Why _ ?”

“You saw how bad it is.”

Tim just shakes his head, and holds his hands out to Jon, beseechingly. “Jon, she tried to  _ murder _ you.”

“I remember.” Jon raises their hand to touch the scar across their throat. “Be that as it may, no one deserves what she’s going through.”

Tim groans and turns away. “How?” He asks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Alright,  _ how _ ? Sure, getting into Faerie is easy enough, but how will you escape from the Faerie Pit. No one ever has before.”

“Well,” Sasha speaks up, and both Jon and Tim turn to her. “It’s a good thing we know someone close by who can make spells.” With a small smile she turned to look at Martin, and the other twos’ eyes followed her’s.

“What?”

* * *

“Martin is our best hope of making a spell in such a short amount of time,” Sasha argues. She watches Jon untie their heels and set them near the door.

“Sasha, he doesn’t think he’s a witch.” Jon runs their fingers through The Dame’s short fur as he straightens back up. “Nor has he ever tested any of his own spells.”

Tim sighs, and leans forward on the bed. “Can you think of any spellcrafters nearby?”

Jon opens their mouth, and closes it. “I suppose he’ll have to do,” they finally mutter after a moment.

“That’s the spirit,” Sasha teases. “Now, what side of the bed do you guys want?”

Martin had been kind enough to offer them a room for the night in his cottage while he tries to figure out if he can even possibly make a spell that would somehow allow Jon to escape the Faerie Pit. He promised them an answer by morning.

“I want to be in the middle,” Jon says to the both of them.

Tim snorts, and Korey jumps up onto the bed and into his lap. “Wow, what a surprise.” His voice is almost bitter.

Jon hesitates for a moment, shifting their weight from one foot to the next, and crosses the room to Tim.

“This is a really dumb idea. I can’t believe you’re risking your life for Daisy.”

Jon shrugs a bit helplessly. “I can’t just leave her there. You saw it.”

“Before you two start making decisions,” Sasha interrupts. “We don’t even know if Martin can do it. This conversation is moot until morning.”

Tim sighs, taking Korey in his arms and standing. “Fine, fine. Fine. Morning then.”

Jon reaches up to scratch Korey under the chin, and is gifted with Korey leaning into their hand. “Besides, given what we’ve seen of Blackwood I doubt he can do it.

* * *

“I can do it.”

Martin had already been awake when they got down to the main floor, with papers and pencils scattered around them. He waved them to the back door, through the overgrown garden, and towards a shed with an attached greenhouse.

The coven watches as Martin picks up a bit of chalk and starts drawing three stick figures, two close together and one apart from the. The two stick figures that stand together were given long straight hair pulled back into a ponytail on one, and the other one was given long looping curls down to the stick figure’s middle. The last stick figure, the one that was standing apart, is given a second smaller circle stacked just off center of the circle that made the head.

Then, after a bit of hesitation, Martin adds a fourth stick figure, giving them big round glasses. He draws two crossing lines in the stick figure’s hand with little circles on the ends of the lines closest to the stick figure’s hand.

Martin then draws a single line through the hands of the ponytail stick figure and the curly haired stick figure and stops it at the waist of the bun stick figure.

After he finishes with that he lists four words on the board next to them;  _ Base, Anchors, Line,  _ and  _ Protection. _

“Okay,” Martin starts, rounding on them. “Like I said before I can do this, even given the short amount of time that we have, and it might be a bit dangerous for Tim-”

“What?” Jon interrupts. “Why would it be dangerous for Tim?”

“Because this is going to be a continuous, permanent spell that will only naturally end upon Tim’s death. Don’t worry, Tim’s not going to die, but what I’m planning is probably going to need some sort of… evidence, which will have to wait until the end because I left the scissors in the house.”

“Is that what drawing-you is holding?” Sasha asks. “Scissors?”

Tim looks at her, and gestures towards the chalkboard. “I’m sorry, can we get back to me casting a  _ continuous _ ,  _ permanent  _ spell that only naturally ends at my death? And maybe let’s focus on the ‘Tim dying’ part?”

“No, because I need to explain this.” Martin turns back to the chalkboard and taps at his crude drawing. “The basic idea is like a-a... fishing line? Jon’s not going to have any problem getting into Faerie, it’s getting back out that’s the problem. Tim will cast the spell, Sasha will steady and strengthen it, and we’ll tie it to Jon and they'll go into Faerie. That’s why it needs to be both continuous and permanent, so that it keeps happening and doesn’t get destroyed-”

“Yes, we know the meaning of the words continuous and permanent. Please, keep going,” Jon interrupts.

“I  _ would _ , if you all would stop  _ interrupting me _ -” Martin argues.

“I feel like saying the words ‘Tim’s death’ is pretty interrupt worthy,” Tim interrupts. “Personally, and maybe this is just a me thing, but I would love some clarification on that part specifically.”

“You know, there is a door right there. You don’t have to get the spell from me. There are other spellcrafters,” Martin points out. “If you’re not going to let me get through this, then please,” he finishes with a gesture towards the shed door.

The three of them don’t move.

“Alright? Thank you. Now,” Martin turns back to the board, and starts gesturing with his chalk. “Once Jon’s back from underhill with Daisy I’ll cut the spell-”

“I-” Jon starts, but snaps their mouth shut.

Martin rounds on him. “Yes?”

Jon glares up at him, but only shrugs.

“Okay then.” Martin turns back to the board, mutters to himself for a second, but continues quickly afterward. “Now, there are certain ingredients I do need.” He taps the chalk under  _ Base _ and scribbles out  _ Robe? _ and  _ Full Moon Water _ . “Since this is a leash spell there needs to be… well, you know… a leash part. I don’t know if rope specifically will work, that’ll need some testing. And of course, full moon water for spells on the full moon, plus some overall strengthening the spell.”

“You wrote robe instead of rope,” Sasha points out. She’s pulled out her grimoire by this point and was taking her own notes.

Martin looks back at them, his face very flushed, and corrects his mistake. “Right, right, sorry about that. That pesky p. Anyways.” He goes over to  _ Anchors _ and writes down  _ Bits from Tim/Sasha, like hair or fingernails _ and  _ Apple w/ Jon’s full name carved into it. _ “So, anchors will also help the spell stay rooted in this reality, and given that you’re in a coven I assume that you two are very close to Jon, if not the closest.”

“Right on both accounts.” Tim’s cheeky smile makes Jon debate about the merits of kicking him under the table.

“Yeah, so you guys in the spell will help Jon make his way back, and so will using Jon’s name.”

Sasha pauses in her writing. “Won’t using Jon’s full name be risky, since he’s going into Faerie? What if a fae manages to uncode the spell?” 

“Well, I’m going to be juicing the apple before adding it into the spell. It’s the sentiment behind it that’s important,” Martin explains. “I’m also adding protection for both Jon and the line, so both should be fine.”

“That’s a lot of risk on a should,” Tim points out.

Jon glances between the two of them. “Are we allowed to interrupt Martin now or something?”

“Good point Jon. Now, getting back to it.” He rounds on the chalkboard again and starts writing a decent amount of plants and runes under  _ Protection _ and  _ Line _ . “The idea for this is both protecting Jon and the line, and some of the plants add to the overall strength of the spell, like the mandrake and the enchanter’s nightshade.” He sets down the chalk, claps his hands together, creating a small cloud of white of dust around his hands. “Right, I think that’s everything. First thing’s first, I need to figure out what material is good for the rope base…”

“How are you going to do that?” Sasha asks, not even looking up from her notes.

“Oh, there’s a door to Faerie up in the hills, on the other side of the Black Wood.” Martin gestures towards the forest behind the shed, though none of them can see it. The shed doesn’ have windows.

“Are you going to be able to get all this done before Halloween?” Jon asks doubtfully.

Martin opens his mouth, but pauses to consider. He looks over the list, and gives a small nod. “It’s going to be tight, and I’ll probably sleep for a month afterwards, but it’s possible.”

“Alright, now can we please get back to the ‘Tim’s death’ thing please?” Tim says loudly.

“Right, right. Come with me, back to the cottage.” He leads them all out of the shed, back through the overgrown garden, and back into the library. He goes to the card catalog, which Pumpkin is laying on top of, and starts going through it. Valfreyja jumps up onto the table next to the boxes of the cards, and sniffs the air of the general area, seemingly debating getting closer to Martin’s fingers or not.

“Is this about the scissors you were talking about?” Sasha asks.

Martin looks over at them, smiling, and the card catalog cards shift rapidly under his fingers, even without him touching them. Pumpkin blinks slowly down at Martin’s hands, and Valfreyja jolts back, and jumps off the table to return to Sasha’s side. “Yeah! It’s one of my prize possessions. Because it was literally a prize I won.”

“Oh?” Tim says conversationally, trying very hard not to look down at the cards. Sasha and Jon aren't even bothering to pretend that they’re not staring.

Martin nods with a little noise of affirmation. “Off of one of the Lukases.”

Sasha blinks, tilting her head as Jon rolled their eyes beside her, shaking their head. “A Lukas? Really?” She asks.

“Yeah. It took quite a bit of time and effort to get this, believe you me.” The cards are still when he turns back to them. “Oh! Well, that’s… Hm.” Martin leans over to look at the card that the spinning had stopped on. “Just the card I needed. I must have left it open.” With the proper call card now exposed Martin turns back to the wild mess of the library and starts wading through the stacks and stacks of books.

“How is the call card supposed to help him in this?” Sasha whispers to Jon.

“How didn’t he notice that he was just doing magic?” They whisper right back.

“Can you two keep it down?” Tim hisses to the two of them, glancing back at Martin to make sure that he didn’t hear anything that they had been saying. “We don’t know the situation, but if we’re actually going to do this… frankly completely stupid and insane idea of Jon’s then we’re going to need the help. Don’t upset him.”

“I’ve got it!” Martin holds up a small box in his hands, and carefully starts to make his way back over, lest he knock something over. He sets down the box on top of the card catalog boxes, and Pumpkin jumps off of the boxes to go lay in one of the bookshelves. Martin pauses as he watches her, but quickly shakes his head and goes about opening the box.

The scissors that he pulls out don't look particularly formidable or interesting. They’re just a pair of old, and honestly a bit worn, scissors. “Alright, one of you cast some magic.”

The coven blinks, and the two wandering familiars return to their witch’s side. The Dame stands up on Jon’s shoulder.

“What kind of magic?” Jon asks, stepping out in front of the other two and holding out their hands.

Martin shrugs, an excited smile on his face. “Any kind. The more permanent the better.”

Jon narrows their eyes, and glances down at The Dame. She, of course, says nothing in return, but blinks slowly up at them. “Fine.” Slowly they bring their hands together, and when Jon pulls them apart there’s an electric green energy gathering between their palms.

It only gets that far before Martin sips through the spell with the scissors. The spell fizzles instantly.

Smirking at the coven’s stunned expressions Martin lifts the scissors and snips the air again. “This is how I’m going to break the spell. The scissors can cut through any spell and end it.”

“You really did get that off a Lukas, didn’t you?” Sasha asks, almost breathlessly.

“Peter Lukas, to be more specific. He’s not terribly bright, has a gambling addiction, and I think he thought I was cute? So three strikes against him. And to his credit it took quite a bit of hustling on my part before he was willing to offer up something like this as a bet, but in the end I did get it.” Martins’ still smiling as he glances between the three of them, but just as quickly flushes and turns away. “Sorry, let me just put these back…” He hurries off, leaving the coven on their own.

“A  _ Lukas _ .” Sasha rounds on the other two, her eyes wide as she looks between the two of them.

Jon nods, crossing their arms. “To be fair, if my interactions with Peter are anything to go by he really isn’t very smart.”

“You think it’s the same Peter then?” Tim asks as he glances back towards Martin.

“Do you know of any other Peter Lukases?”

“Could you imagine how embarrassed the Lukas family must be if Peter actually did lose something like that,” Sasha points out.

“And how embarrassed Elias must be?” Tim snickers.

Jon sighs, and reaches up to scratch The Dame’s chin. “To be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Elias must have been furious.”

“Elias?”

The coven jumps and turns, and of course Martin has made his way back over. He was only on the other side of the room. “No one important,” Tim quickly reassures.

“Now that we know just how the spell will end, just where are you planning to start?” Jon asks.

Martin pauses, and his shoulders droop a bit. “Figuring out what material the line should be, and then I’ll build the rest of the spell onto that, so I really need to make sure that I have the best material. I have a guess as to what it’ll be, but I really hope that it’s wrong. There’s a door to Faerie up the hill in the Black Wood, so I can test materials there.”

“What material do you think would be best?” Sasha asks as she pulls her grimoire out of her bag.

Martin wrinkles his freckled nose. “Spider silk.”

* * *

“It’s pretty lucky that there just so happens to be a door to Faerie here,” Tim comments.

“Lucky for you guys maybe. Not for the people in the village,” Martin says back, far too casually. He doesn’t turn back to look at the three of them.

“What do you mean?” Sasha asks.

He pauses, and fiddles with the basket he’s holding. “A couple of years ago Mum’s sickness started to get… well, really bad, and she stopped being the village witch. Well, we really need a witch, this close to a doorway to Faerie. The Black Wood are…” He waves his hand to indicate the forest around them. “Satcherated in fae magic. Anyways, a woman from the village was taken by the fae.” Martin gave a helpless sort of shrug. “That’s why we need a witch here.”

The four of them lapse into silence. They climb up the hill together, having to slow or stop every once in a while for Jon to catch up. Their cane helps as much as it can, but they’re still walking up a grassy hill.

“I have to ask,” Tim starts on one of their stops. After Martin makes a little affirming noise Tim nods to the woods around them. “Alright, so. The forest is called the Black Wood, the village is Blackwood village, your family name is Blackwood…”

Martin snorts and nods. “Yeah, it’s a lot, isn’t it? My family’s been the witch family here ever since… well, forever.” When they’re all back together they start off again, and Martin continues talking. “According to family lore the first Blackwood was carved from a branch from the family tree by another witch, and was raised to guard the Black Wood, the village, and the doorway into Faerie. And ever since every witch in the Blackwood line has been carved from a branch from the family tree, and has lived here. My mum… was the last of her line.”

Jon raises one of their eyebrows. “I’m guessing you weren’t carved then?”

“No, I had a human father. Mum never got around to carving an heir, what with raising me and all, and then she got sick…” Martin’s voice trails off into quiet nothingness.

“‘Had’? Has your father passed as well?” Jon prompts, not noticing Tim’s eyes widening at his question.

Martin’s laugh is humorless. “He ditched us when Mum got sick. I haven’t seen him since I was eight. Might as well be.”

Sasha winces as she trades a look with Tim. “What a bastard.”

“Yeah I heard a lot of that growing up. Anyways, it’s just over the next hill.”

“Oh thank god,” Jon breathes out. 

The door to Faerie is set into the side of a hill. It’s not terribly ornate or anything, and really the only thing special about it is that it’s set into the side of a hill and bright yellow. Really the only clue to what it actually is is the two fae that are standing beside it. Both share the same bright yellow curling hair, the very same as the door, long, dagger like fingers, and an impressive stature, even taller than Martin, but visually that’s all they seem to share.

“Michael and Helen,” Martin whispers to the coven as they approach. “Helen was the human that was taken from the village. Michael was a human that was sent into Faerie by the Archivist, a-and she just left him in there!” 

“The Archivist, you say?” Jon asks, and tightens their grip on their cane. They trade a look with Sasha.

“Yeah. She and Michael came here a while back. I don’t know what she was after, Mum never told me, but The Archivist sacrificed Michael for it.,” Martin mutters.

“She died a few years ago,” Jon says quickly, in lue of something else to say.

For a moment Martin’s face drops, but then his eyebrows draw together and he huffs. “Well, I’m not sorry to hear that. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

Tim crosses his arms. “She did what she thought she had to do for the good of everyone.”

Martin’s eyes snap to Tim, and though his voice stays quiet it does little to hide the rush of emotion that suddenly fills every word. “Gertrude Robinson was a monster. You don’t save the world by sacrificing people, especially not people who- who don’t know and didn’t volunteer to risk their lives. And especially, especially not people you’re supposed to be caring for, people that you’re supposed to be protecting. Magic isn’t… it’s not math! It’s not even that  _ hard _ . There’s always another solution, there’s always another way through.”

“Alright, so what’s the other solution for Jon going to go get Daisy then?”

“What’s this I hear about Gertrude Robinson?” A curling voice asks from behind Martin.

Martin wheels around, and steps in front of Tim. “Hello Michael.”

Michael’s twisting smile twists and glinting eyes glint across the four humans in front of them. “Hello witchling. Who have you brought to our doorstep?”

“These woods are my mother’s woods. I walk where I want.”

Michael’s laugh echoes off of nothing, and surrounds them, cornering them. “Still not afraid to go into the woods?”

“Of course not.” Martin’s shoulders are tense, and for a moment his hand is tight on the basket before he forces himself to relax. “Though... I do have business with the door, both today and at the end of the month.”

“Oh Martin.” A femanine voice joins the conversation, and the four humans spin around to see Helen has appeared on their other side. Tim rushes to stand in front of Jon and Sasha, and glares up at Helen. “Is that really the best way to go about asking permission?”

“I don’t need permission. Besides, this close to Halloween it’s going to be opening with or without you. And even this close you both are probably having trouble keeping it closed.” Martin glances past Michael and towards the yellow door. “I didn’t know that you two were keeping it closed.”

“Well, someone needs to protect the village if you’re not going to.” Helen quirks her head and her smile.

“I can’t,” Martin argues, turning away from Michael and towards Helen. “I’m not a-”

“Witch, I know, I know.” Helen waves her hand dismissively. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe, eventually, it’ll be true.”

“Look,” Martin pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not here for this. I just need to use the door to put the basket inside of the door, close it, and then pick the basket back up.”

“Hmmm,” Michael rubs at his chin, considering the group in front of him. “Well, how about we make a deal?”

“Michael I’m just going to tell you the information about Gertrude. I’m not going to make a deal about that.”

“Wait.” Jon steps forward to stand beside Martin. “It’s our information, not yours.”

Martin raises his eyebrows at them. “You’re not really going to lord that information over him?”

“I will if I need to.”

“Well, Jon was invited into Faerie, so we shouldn’t need to,” Sasha pipes up.

A pause came about the six of them. A breeze blew through the branches, shaking them gently.

“Who invited you?” Michael asks, leaning very, very close to Jon.

“Breekon.” Jon raises his eyes to meet Michael’s, and squares their thin shoulders. “Of Breekon and Hope.”

“The delivery men?” Michael straightens back up, and raises an eyebrow at Helen.

“I heard one of them died recently. A wolf killed him, and in retaliation the other buried her in Faerie,” Helen says.

“And he invited us to rescue her,” Jon interrupts.

Helen snorts, and rolls her eyes at Michael, rounding on the group of witches. “Is that what your plan is then? To rescue her?”

Jon raises his chin. “Yes.”

His and her laughs echoes and bounces off of the trees. “Well, you can certainly try.” Michael wipes a tear from his eye, and the grass it lands on when he flicks it away turns a bright magenta.

“ _ Please _ try. I’m sure it’ll be very entertaining,” Helen giggles.

“Well, in order to do that I need to use the door,” Martin says.

“Yes, yes, go ahead.” Helen motions him forward.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Martin nods, gives the coven a brief smile, and rushes off to test his rope materials before the fae could change their mind.

“Now,” Michael says, as his laugh starts winding down. “Tell me about Gertrude Robinson.”

“You knew her?” Sasha asks.

“I’m the one asking the questions.” Michael folds his hands behind his back, and smiles down at the three of them. “What happened to Gertrude Robinson?”

The three of them settle into silence.

“Her body was found a few months ago. She was murdered,” Jon finally says.

Michael wrinkles his nose. “Hm. Well, who is the Archivist now?”

“No one,” Tim says quickly. “There hasn’t been a replacement yet.”

Sasha nods. Jon shakes their head, but quickly starts nodding after Sasha elbows them.

“Hm.” Michael tilts his head, and just watches them for a moment. “Well, I’ll be very… interested in learning about whom the new Archivist is.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to let you know when we get a new one,” Tim assures him.

The door to Faerie closes sharply as Martin swears. “Alright, we’re ready to go,” he calls over to the coven.

Tim claps his hands together. “Well, it was very nice to meet you.”

Michael nods, and a smile twists over his lips. “And I will see you at… the end of the month.”

“Oh?” Tim prompts, his voice a bit high.

“Well, you are coming back on Halloween, aren’t you?” Helen asks as she walks back over with Martin. “We will see you then.”

Martin frowns, and gives the coven a shrug. “Come on, we need to get back to the cottage. We have… a lot to do.”

“Did you figure out the material that would work best?” Jon asks.

Martin nods, and gives a small, defeated sigh. “Spider silk. I was right, but I had to make sure. Spider silk is… well, it’s really difficult to work with, with how delicate and sticky it is, bu-but I can make it work,” Martin quickly assures them upon seeing Jon’s expression. “I’ve worked with spider silk before, it’s not impossible.”

Jon nods, still looking rather sick to their stomach. “Let’s just… get back.”

* * *

Jon finds Martin asleep on the couch a few days after their trip to the door. The braid of spider silk he had been working on the last few days is resting on the coffee table. He doesn’t have a blanket, he’s using his own arm as a pillow, and is still wearing the clothes from the night before. Pumpkin is sitting like a spotty loaf of bread on the back of the sofa. She lifts herself into a sitting position as Jon stops inside of the doorway of the living room.

They’re all silent for a moment, before Jon huffs out a sigh. “Your witch isn’t very clever, is he?” Jon mutters to Pumpkin, hoping to keep quiet enough that Martin doesn’t wake up.

Pumpkin only regards Jon and The Dame with her cool blue unblinking eyes. 

Jon gives her a small smile, and turns away from the calico familiar and her witch to stare at the braid of spider silk. They’re not looking forward to using any kind of spell that had… those particular ingredients weaved into its core. They’ve had enough experiences with spiders and spider related things, thank you very much.

The only clue that Jon is given before Martin awakes is Pumpkin suddenly flinging herself off of the couch and to the nearby chair. Jon is so startled by her movement that they don't even notice Martin slowly starts to sit up.

“Oh! Jon, you’re awake.”

Jon turns just in time to see Martin quickly standing up, and straightening his wrinkled clothes, as though that would help anything.

“I am,” Jon confirms, even though they really don’t need to as they’re standing right there. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um,” Martin says, narrowing his eyes and looking off.

“The couch didn’t look terribly comfortable.”

Martin shrugs his shoulders, and looks off. “I mean, it’ll do while you guys are here. It’ll have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, um, don’t have anywhere else I can sleep?”

A loud meow interrupts their conversation before Jon can respond.

Pumpkin is standing in the doorway. Her eyes are fixed on Martin. She meows once and disappears into the hallway.

“She wants us to follow her,” Jon concludes.

“I know that,” Martin says, placing his hands on his hips, but Jon’s already following Pumpkin through the doorway.

Martin sighs, and rolls his eyes, and follows.

Pumpkin isn’t far, and is sitting in front of a closed door just beyond the staircase. Jon stops in front of the door with her, and raises their hand to place it on the knob.

“Don’t.”

Martin can’t stand his full height in the lower floor of the cottage, so can’t stand to his full height. This doesn’t diminish the fact that Jon needs to look up to see Martin’s face, which is drawn tight. “Don’t open the door.”

Jon immediately narrows their eyes. “What’s in this room?”

Martin sighs through his nose, and closes his eyes. “It’s just… Mum’s room.”

Jon lets go of the knob so quickly it might as well have burned them.

The quiet overtakes them. The only noise is from upstairs where Tim and Sasha seem to be talking. Sasha’s laugh seems so far away from the quiet little bit of hallway behind the stairs.

Pumpkin meows again, and scratches at the door.

“Pumpkin,” Martin scolds, and reaches for her. “Stop that.”

Pumpkin dodges away from his hands, and trots back towards the living room.

“She doesn’t understand,” Jon says quickly, stroking the ear of their own familiar. “Despite being a familiar, she is still a cat. She just wants to help.”

Martin had started shaking his head half way through Jon’s sentence. “She’s not my familiar because I’m not a witch. Why do I need to keep telling you this?”

“Martin, I’ve seen you use magic. You’re a witch.”

“ _ No _ , I’m not. If I was a witch my mum would have known. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Jon raises one of their eyebrows. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t know your mother. Only you can answer that.”

Martin crosses his arms over his chest and turns away. “Well, I’m… not. I’m just… not. I  _ can’t _ be.”

Jon presses their lips into a thin line. “So, back to sleeping on the couch then?”

“It’s only until the end of the month,” Martin says with a shrug. “Besides, between the spider silk braid and the moon potion I’m going to have to do, I’m not going to be getting much sleep anyways. Not to mention anything else...”

“We are propter witches,” Jon reminds Martin. “We can help you.”

“Hmmm,” Martin hums as he thinks. “Have any of you ever made spells before?”

“Well, no, not to my knowledge. But how hard can it be? You can do it.”

Martin raises an eyebrow, tightening his folded together arms. “Well, fine then. That’s settled. Pick one of you to help braid the spider silk, someone to help me with the night brewing, and one of you to help me with choosing the words for the incantation. If you can’t choose who does what then I’ll pick for you.”

Jon snarls and lifts their chin to meet Martin’s hard gaze. “You don’t get to direct  _ my _ coven-”

“Well, this is  _ my _ spell. I’m the one who’s planned it front and back, and you’re the one who needs it so I think I can. Figure it out with the other two by tonight.” He doesn’t give Jon the opportunity to speak up, and just turns and leaves.

* * *

It’s an easy choice, all things considered. Jon can’t bear to touch the spider silk, and given that it’s Tim who’s going to be casting the spell it made sense for him to help with the incantation. That leaves Sasha to help with the spider silk, and Jon helping with the potion.

Sasha sits down with Martin that day and starts braiding with him. The spider silk, despite being one of the strongest materials on earth, was still so delicate and easy to break. Sasha wouldn’t say that she was necessarily patient, but she understood that this wasn’t something that they could rush, lest it all be ruined. It also wasn’t something they could use magic for, lest the silk be tainted by the spell.

Martin didn’t meet Sasha’s eyes as she kept looking over at him. He kept his eyes steadily on the silk in front of him, and his braiding.

The two work in silence, and Martin is the first to break it.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, still not looking up from his work.

Sasha blinks, almost not registering that Martin had spoken for a moment. “You’re sorry?”

Martin nods. “I haven’t been the… best host...”

Her snort interrupts him.

“I know,  _ I know _ , I just… I haven’t actually spoken to… well, anyone besides Pumpkin in six months.” He glances over to where Pumpkin is curled up in a chair. “An-and I don’t mean to use that as an excuse, I really don’t, but I just… I’m out of practice at biting my tongue, I shouldn’t have been so rude to Tim and Jon.”

Valfreyja is sitting beside her own witch, sniffing at Sasha’s fingers and the spider silk. “Well, if you feel that way you should apologize to them,” she says with a shrug.

Martin finally lifts his eyes to look at her. “If I feel that way? Do you think I shouldn’t?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know? Things like this aren’t really my strong suite.” Sasha lifts her hands up into the air, trying to get the silk away from Valfreyja. Valfreyja simply climbs into Sasha’s lap and starts using her claws to try and tug Sasha’s hand down by her sleeve.

“Well, are they angry with me?”

“Not… that I’ve noticed? I think Tim just thinks you’re a bit naive, and Jon is irritated by your general presence I think-”

Martin huffs and rolls his eyes. “Well that’s good to know.”

“I know you meant that sarcastically, but isn’t- no, Valley, don’t-”

“Valley?”

Sasha stands up, sending Valfreyja to the floor, where she tries to join Pumpkin on the chair. Pumpkin jumps away before Valfreyja can settle down next to her.

“Don’t you dare tell Tim I called her thought.” Sasha’s pointing a finger at Martin, as though threatening, but her tone is light and playful, with just the hint of a laugh at the edge of her words.

Martin looks up at her, and quickly back down, smiling softly to himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll just keep this between us.”

* * *

Tim raises an eyebrow at the loopy scribbling that Martin’s put down so far. “Sooo… poetry?”

Martin flushes, and doesn’t quite meet Tim’s eye. “Well, I mean, sort of? I usually start out with a bit of a poem and then refine it down until I get something that’s at least a bit easier to memorize, since I tend to go a bit freeform, but! None of that really matters. It’s more what they mean to you, you know?”

Tim starts to nod, but quickly goes to shaking his head. “No, this is my first time doing something like this.”

“Don’t worry about that. Honestly it’s pretty easy. Since you’re going to be the one casting the spell, and we want this to be as strong as possible, so we’re going to focus on your reaction and relationship to Jon and the situation.” He sets down the pencil and slides it and the paper over to Tim. “We’re just brainstorming right now, so just jot things down as they come to you.”

Tim picks up the pencil and taps the end of it against the paper. He stares down at the little dot it leaves, and starts writing.

The first word that Tim writes down is “ _ stupid _ ”, and it’s quickly followed by a lot of things of a similar nature that illustrated quite clearly how Tim felt about the entire situation.

“...Right.” Martin’s eyes survey the list that Tim’s made. “So… None of that is going to be helpful at all.”

Tim groans, and throws his pencil down on the paper. “Yeah, I figured.”

Martin taps his fingers along the table. “So… how are you doing?”

He snorts, and leans back in his chair. “Oh, just great. It’s not like Jon is about to throw themself onto Faerie after someone that tried to murder them, and isn’t probably going to to come back out.”

“Well, with that attitude they aren't.”

Tim lets out a small “Oh christ” as he stands up out of his chair. As he gets up Korey jumps up onto the table and starts pushing the pencil around, before finally sending it off of the edge.

Martin folds his hands in his lap, wringing his hands together. “Look, Tim. If Jon’s set on doing this then the best thing we can do to help them is to make sure that the spell is strong enough to pull Jon back out.”

“You said that magic leads to other solutions. Well, what is the other solution to Jon having to crawl through Faerie to get Daisy?”

Carefully Martin looks over at Tim. “This is the other solution. Without magic Daisy would just be stuck there. It’s not… safe, but this is the other option that magic allows.”

“Well, maybe she should be stuck there. She did actually murder that fae, maybe, maybe she deserves her punishment.”

“Well, out of the two of us you were the one who saw her punishment. Did she?”

Tim takes a deep breath through his mouth, lets it out his nose, and leans against a wall. “Jon doesn’t think so… and honestly it was... horrible. And she was helping us at the time. If she hadn’t been there to help us then none of this would have happened.”

Martin nods, not that Tim is paying any attention to his movements, and two of them lapse into silence.

“Maybe… instead of writing about the situation write about Jon specifically? And the bond between you both?”

Tim pauses for a moment, and joins Martin back at the table. As he sits down Korey picks the pencil back up, jumps back up onto the table to drop it on top of the papers, before jumping down to lay across Tim’s lap. He scratches her chin absentmindedly as he taps the pencil against the page. “Did you really not talk to anyone for six months?”

Martin looks back up to him quickly, and then back down. “Well, not really, not sense the funeral. I mean, I do go into the village for groceries from time to time, and talk to people then… sometimes. But mostly it’s just been me and…” Martin trails off as he glances over to where Pumpkin is curled up in the bookshelf. As he watches she uncurls just enough to look over at him with her icy eyes.

Tim nods and turns back to the page. “Guess it’s a good thing that we stopped by then.” He looks up at Martin through his eyelashes, and there’s a playful smile on his lips.

Martin smiles back. “Yeah, honestly, I’ve really enjoyed having you all around. Nice not having the house be quiet all the time.”

“Maybe when all this is over we can come back again?”

Martin’s smile doesn’t drop, but under the table where Tim can’t see he grips his hands together tightly. “I would really enjoy that,” Martin says honestly, but without getting his hopes up. “At least, if you can manage to get Jon not to hate me as much.”

Tim laughs, and shakes his head. “Trust me, Jon doesn’t hate you.”

Before Martin can ask Tim starts brainstorming again. Once Martin catches onto the nature of what Tim’s writing he turns away, blushing. It fells too personal to witness, and they leave a hollow place deep in his chest. A perfect reminder that they would leave, and won’t be coming back, no matter what he wants.

Martin’s eyes drift off of the floor, and he locks gazes with Pumpkin’s icy stare

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a second chapter of this, I have three scenes to go, but I ran out of time.


End file.
